Chapter 16 · The Weight of a God

"You’re not a hero, Silas. You’re just a parasite in a fancy suit," Kaelen spat, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind on the rooftop.

He didn't wait for an answer. Kaelen stepped forward, the concrete beneath his boots spider-webbing with every inch. The gravity around him wasn't just heavy—it was hungry. It pulled at the loose gravel, the shredded remnants of the rooftop garden, and the very air, twisting it into a suffocating vortex.

Silas Thorne didn't look like a man anymore. The dark serum had turned his veins into black rivers, his skin a bruised, iridescent purple. He stood ten feet tall, a shadow giant with muscles that looked like braided obsidian. He let out a guttural roar that shook the glass panes of the surrounding skyscrapers.

"I am the future of this city!" Silas bellowed, his voice a distorted tectonic grind. "I’ve evolved beyond the limits of flesh. You’re just a relic in a dead man’s body!"

Kaelen tilted his head, a cold, bored expression on his face. "Evolved? You look like a bloated tick."

Silas lunged. The speed was terrifying, a blur of shadow and raw power.